


Mirror Mirror

by Aloof_Introvert



Series: Managing the Life of Tarrant Hightopp, and Five Other Impossible Things [10]
Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Gen, Looking Glass, Mental Health Issues, Mirrors, Personification, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloof_Introvert/pseuds/Aloof_Introvert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarrant and co. venture through the looking-glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: I'm sorry this is so late, I hit a bout of writer's block soon after I started this chapter. This is what I got before my mind blanked, so it looks like this one is going to be a two-parter. : )  
> Hopefully once I see the sequel this block will go away... Fingers crossed

     I think that, all events set aside, my friends and I could at least agree that it was a fine day for travelling.  
Nivens arrived in the early after-noon, carrying a large, circular looking-glass that nearly toppled his diminutive frame with its weight. He quite huffed and fairly puffed as he approached. Chessur, his cup of tea part-way to his mouth, lowered it to its saucer and raised an irritately eye-brow.

     "You'll wake Mallymkun with all that panting," he tutted, cutting his eyes at the teapot in which Mally had elected to nap.

     "Very sorry," Nivens panted. With a sudden start, he propped the looking-glass against the leg of the table and peered at his pocketwatch. Satisfied that he was not, in fact, late, he addressed Chessur, Thackery and I. "Now, I-I do believe that this will all go a tad more smoothly if I act as your guide." His nose twitched as he brief awaited opposition, but none came. I thought that he would make a fine guide, and I was not certain that Thackery was attending; Chessur merely stirred his tea. "Right. I've told them we will be arriving by nightfall. They should be quite prepared." Chessur put down his spoon and gave the looking-glass a feline glance.

     "Is this to be our portal?" he purred. Thackery was certainly paying attention now, bouncesome in his seat. "Lovely. I've missed the Looking-Glass Lands... I've only been once, but you know how places like that are wont to stick in the mind." Nivens agreed, nodding with a heartened smile. How ever, not every one was so pleased.

     "Oi! Keep it down, will you? I'm tryin' to sleep! I am a LADY, you know," Mally berated, using her thin arms to push off the top of the teapot.

     "Hey, you've got to be polite in the company of Mr. Will-o-wisp, lad!" crowed Thackerey admonishingly. 

     "Well, sorry then," Mally said, still in her drowse.

     "That's McTwisp," I heard a small voice correct beside me. Mally yawned, addressing Thackery in stead of Nivens.

     "But I'm sure he's--" She interrupted herself when she spied the looking-glass, and in a moment was beside it, gazing into its smoothly surface appreciatively.

     "Is it the thought of the Looking-Glass Lands that's so captivating, or is it your own reflection?" I jested.

     "The travellin', in fact," she said, sticking her tongue out at me. "When will we go?"

     "Er, presently, that is, if you are all ready..." ventured Nivens.

     "Hang about, hang about!" Mally called, all ready on her way back into the windmill. She returned with a makeshift sword (a pin; she had bent the other attempting to filch a cherry). "Ready," she said, putting it into her rope-belt.

     So it was that Nivens placed the looking-glass upon the grass and we all gathered round.

     "Shall we step through?" I inquired, apprehenseish and excited. I moved my fingers as I spoke (a bit of a habit).

     "No, not yet," said Nivens, again pulling out his pocketwatch. "I shall go first, for security." I wondered should I remind him that every one at the party could stand upon the other's shoulders and I would still possess the height advantage, but I refrained, for Nivens knew far more about the Looking-Glass Lands than I. While I had left off attending to think on this, Nivens had put out one timid paw, as though testing the waters. And water it was; I watched the glass ripple, mesmerising. In a moment Nivens was through the other side, reflected amidst the blue of the sky... But no sooner had we all traded awed and excited glances than he began to gesture frantically, appearing to grow smaller. We looked at one another.

     "Suppose we should do some thing," Thackery noted.

     "Suppose we ought," returned Mally, peering down at Nivens.

     "I agree," added Chessur, easy eyes fixed upon him.

A long moment passed as we all refused to admit that, watching Nivens shrink to a dinner-plate, then a saucer, then a tea-cup in size, we were all quite frightened. We cut our eyes at each other and did nothing more for another dragging second.

     "Come, some Resistance we are," I muttered in grim shame, and stepped into the looking-glass.

\----

     I do not know how I expected it to feel, but it did not feel like that at all.  
It didn't feel like any thing; one moment I was in Underland, another moment I was passing through silvery mist, and in the third I was in the Looking-Glass Lands. It was all very smooth, too smooth in fact, and I directly found myself to be floating. I held my hat in a vice grip. Unfortunately, the contents of my pockets (two kerchiefs, my sewing kit, and some change) were not so lucky, and all clattered to the ground.

     "Nivens!" I cried up at the blue-jacketed shape above me (for though I possess no fear of heights, I have a healthy phobia of falling). "What is going on?"

     "Oh goodness, oh gracious," he fretted. "Gravity is distracted-- so serious and sombre all the time, she hasn't the attention to spare for her duties! Oh, my!"

     "How can we make her attend?" I asked franticlike.

     "W-We'll need to be firm with her," said Nivens, tremulously. As the ground grew further from me, I felt as though my heart was fighting its uncouth way out of my chest. Once more I sensed that odd laughter creeping upon me, but I could pay it no mind-- my current predicament was far more important-- and it soon sunk away. For the better, then, as I perceived Thackery at that moment passing through the portal. 

     Since he was smaller than I, he floated at a faster rate, soon passing by my head. He scrambled in mid-air and caught my hand fast; by the time I turned to look at him, he was fairly despairing.

     "Would you see the cheek of it!" he said, with a gesture towards the moon which, in the Looking-Glass Lands, appeared to replace the sun. "What is the world coming to, lad?" I was about to reply that I hadn't the foggiest idea when Mally careened through the looking-glass as well, a squalling feather borne by a particularly provoked gust of air. I feared that she should pass Thackery and I, and Nivens too, but she snagged one of Thackery's ears and held on stubbornlike, planting her feet upon his brow.

     "Is Chessur coming through as well?" I asked her, once she had righted herself and looked stable.

     "I don't know. But if he is, he's gettin' one rude welcome..." 

     "Precisely. It's Gravity's fault, you know, she is diverted..." I fixed my eyes down upon the faraway looking-glass as I spoke, squinting and scanning for Chessur. I wondered was he coming, and a wicked part of me thrilled at the idea of him being too cowardly to enter the Looking-Glass Lands. How ever, another part of me contradicted the previous part, having conjured a bit of a plan.

     Chessur did not disappoint. He drifted through the portal leisuresome, surveying with slit-pupiled eyes the surroundings that my friends and I were too preoccupied to take in. I swift broke his reverie:

     "Quickly, Chess! Catch Nivens with your claws!" He rolled his eyes at my commandish tone, but swirled into smoke despite it, appearing beside Nivens and catching his waistcoat. He dragged poor Nivens along, with him shivering and stuttering his "oh dear"s and "my goodness"s in obvious distress. As for our lofty peril, I saw that we (being my chain of friends and I) were passing by the boughs of a singularly large tree. At the first opportunity, I lashed out and snatched one of its branches, which I gripped so forcefully my knuckles turned white. My dear hat tumbled down to the grass below, but we were secure, stretching upwards in a perfect line.

     As I thought on my next course of action, I happened to catch a glimpse of Thackery and his unwelcome cargo. I presumed that he should be getting quite rankled, what with the problem of floating and that kick Mally had accidentally delivered to his eye (his glass eye, evidently, since he did not flinch). Yes, quite rankled indeed.

     And I was correct. No sooner had I thought this than Thackery cried out, "Klotchyn, ye frumious thing! This has gone on long enough-- Let us go this instant!"

     Gravity, for her part, did not fling us to the ground; our landing was of the usual kind. Even so, I fell very ungracefully on my face. In terror, I searched for Mally, only to find Thackery triumphantly holding her in his palm; it seems he had cupped his paws round her and taken the impact in her stead.

     "See?" Thackery chirped cheerily. "You only need to ask nicely." Chessur was fine, of course, eyeing us with amusement from his perch in the air; Nivens, on the contrary, appeared to be unconscious. I stooped beside him.

     "What's the matter with him?" I asked Chessur, whose grin widened perplexinglike.

     "I'm afraid he fainted a good few moments ago, what with the fright of it all," he said, and flicked his tail.

     "Why did you not tell me?"

     "You didn't ask," he purred. I glared at him and jostled Nivens by the shoulders, trying not to rattle his head. It merely flopped back.

     "Nunz, Nivens, this isn't the time," I muttered, patting the side of his furry face. He didn't wake. "We will need brandy to revive him," I said, looking up at my friends. "I don't suppose any one has some?" Nobody answered, and I took that as a negative.

\----

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Wherein the Looking-Glass Lands are confusingly whimsical and Tarrant & Co. are confused by its whimsy.

     Nobody had any brandy. With that information, I rocked back upon my heels, thinking.  
     "Chessur, you have visited here before. Perhaps you know a way to some sickhouse, somewhere we could get the tools to revive him?"  
     "Hmm." Chessur rolled slowish in the air as he pondered. "It has been years, but I seem to recall there being a rail-road not far from here... The way to it escapes me, though." He smiled, unapologetic and vexing.  
     "Well, let's try it anyway, seein' as McTwisp's our only real guide," said Mally with a defeated shrug.  
     "And let's walk upon this ground here, seeing as it's our only real place to stand," Thackery said, energetically gesturing to the beaten dirt path with a stern glower at Mally. The look seemed humorously intense on his face.  
     "Sorry for, uh, steppin' on your face," Mally said, swiping ashamedly at the ground with a drooping tail.  
     "It's all right, lad," said Thackery, kindly. I took advantage of this welcome lull to retrieve my spilt belongings (including my dear hat) and, as I did so, take stock of my surroundings. Behind my friends and I stood an opulant windmill constructed of pleasant pastel brick, the base of it environed by scruffy grass. Upon its door rested a sturdy-seeming lock. Sibilant nature noises issued forth from the splendid array of flowering trees, and as their branches shifted in the breeze I could nearly swear to hear a strain of fiddle music. I accredited the phenomenon to my ample imagination. From the windmill wound a cobblestone path, the stones of which shone speckled in the misplaced moonlight. From the whole land radiated the familiar scent of recently rained-upon soil. I looked from Nivens's limp form to the path which stretched before me: its end, marked by hills, sat quite a walk away.  
     "That's it," said Chessur, swirling into form beside me with brazen suddenness. He grinned at my surprise, then pointed a fluffly paw at the hill-carved horizon. "It's coming back to my recollection... That is the way to the rail-road stop, I am certain of it." Mallymkun shaded her eyes with her paw, squinting down the path, which had begun to take on a purplish tinge that I could only guess preceded twilight.  
     "Better start walking, then," she sighed. I put on my hat.

\----

     Unfortunately, our destination was not as easily caught as Thackery's forgiveness.  
     I lifted Nivens into my arms and my friends and I headed towards the direction in which we were pointed, only to find ourselves, inexplicably, back at the entrance to the windmill. By this time roiling clouds were forming at the path's end, crowding its hills.  
     "You've frightened it, Chessur, or otherwise why would it run away so fast?" said Thackery, arms crossed over his chest.  
     "I believe we are going about it all wrong... These are mirrored lands. Here, WE are the backwards ones," Chessur mused, setting his chin in his paw.  
     "So what, we walk away from the train station to get to it?" Mallymkun asked, excited by the paradox. "That's aces. We ought to come here more often!"  
     With Mallymkun satisfied, the plan was settled. We proceeded to walk away from the station-- towards the colourful windmill-- and found ourselves just as inexplicably amidst the rolling hills and roiling clouds. The moon was getting quite low. I wondered whether a peculiarly dim sun would rise, to match the curious bright moon. In any case, the moonset was very nice and we all stopped a second to admire it. "Look there, all of ye," Thackery cried suddenlike, giving a little hop. "It's a bellowing steam engine!" He craned his neck to see the faraway road clearly, ears pressed back upon his slight shoulders. I looked between the flourishing trees to spy a slowing train-- carriages and all-- that was chuffing up quite a mess of smoke indeed. Its shadowy conductor pulled upon the whistle-cord, and Mallymkun squeaked and jumped as the train let out a shrill warble. Chessur affirmed that it was in fact the train leading inland, whereupon I set out determinedly for the tracks. It was a moment before Chessur, who was all ready a ways ahead of me, turned back tiredish and steered me towards the windmill. Now on the correct course, I set out for the tracks again with infallible determination.  
     One unnatural short walk later, my friends and I stood at the threshold of the steam engine, which softly hissed as it came to a stop before us. The train was all over gauges and needle-twitch dials, all brazen and brassy, with pistons pumping and pipe-tops clapping. A pane of glass affixed to its front protected a lamp from the wind, bringing to mind a glowing eyeball. In fact, the whole train reminded me of some great and fearsome automaton. It also reminded me of clockwork, which was very fitting, as the Looking-Glass Lands are where most timepieces are manufactured. My friends were coming aboard now; so taking a deep breath, I stepped into the dim yellow mouth of the monstrosity.  
     Strangely, no-one came to meet us as we boarded; we all filed in quietlike, aiming nervous smiles at the silent passengers-- horses, goats, lions, and the like-- who broke their silence immediately when we sat down.  
     "Of course you must realise that a train-ride here costs a pound per seat. How else do you expect our fair conductor to garner the money to eat?" The proclamation, sounding as though chanted by a chorus, came from within my own head. Indeed, it was as if the Looking-Glass Passengers could transfer their very thoughts.  
     "Perfectly natural, and perfectly quaint," I heard Chessur's voice purr within my mind. I glared at him fiercely and looked round; no-one made a move.  
     "And for our friend, the white rabbit?" I managed to convey the question through some strangely effort and tweak of my mind, at once both too natural and unfamiliar to describe. There was only the sound of the train-pipe puffing for several moments.  
     "Sixpence for him should be enough, for he seems to be made of quiet stuff..." mused the Looking-Glass Passengers. "A pound for busy fools like you, but for resting ones just a penny or two!" Half by sight and half by guessing, I sensed Mally bristle on my shoulder.  
     "Oi! Who are you callin' busy fools?" she squeaked, indignantly (and literally) giving the passengers a piece of her mind.  
     "Exactly! We're not busy at the moment, now are we, lads?" Thackery joined in. He appeared to have gotten the gist of sharing his thoughts as well.  
     "Right," said Mally with finality, then paused. "Wait. You know I'm a girl, yeah?" Watching us, Chessur's expression was one I failed to place, one of unuttered irony. In the moments before Chessur smacked his paw into his furry forehead tiredlike, it was echoed by the Looking-Glass Passengers.  
     "You're wasting our time, all of you," they managed to mutter in their curious chorus. "You're busy idiots, through and through." In unison, they returned to their various activities; reading the newspaper, writing in logs, peering out of windows and suchness.  
     Uneasily, and more than a little miffed, I made my way to my seat. In the unnervingsome silent train-carriage, the conductor's steps rang out loud and clear.  
     And then we paid the conductor. We must have. Although I admit that I wasn't attending... In stead I dreamt.  
     I dreamt of a suspiciouslike familiar corridor which was lined by several doors, with candles placed in holders beside every door. Curious, I looked round and then inspected the first room. The door-knob had been violentish torn out, leaving a ragged hole through which I could see a bit of the room. Only the floor, to be exact; it was made of claustrophobic dark wood. Despite my efforts, the door would not budge, and nobody answered when I called.  
     I continued on to the next room. I originally supposed the pattern upon the door to be some decorative moulding, but upon closer examination it was writing etched into the soft wood. The door was all over text, but try as I would I could not read any of the diminutive lettering by such dim light. A tad perturbed, I went away from the carved-upon door.  
     The next room I had no hope of entering. It was secured by a pad-lock, a dead-lock, and even a chain attached to the door-frame. When I endeavoured to turn the knob, I discovered that it had been further locked with a key. Sensing the message, I left that door alone.  
     Finally I came across an open door. I checked to see whether any one was about before I went in. The chambre seemed to be a study, and a very pleasant one at that. It was well-furnished with bookshelves, a desk, and a table (among other odds and ends) which were all made of light wood. The study had quite the open, airy feel about it, and I went to admire the view from the large window. Imagine my surprise when I observed myself conversing with Thackery calmly in the train-carriage, as though I had never fallen asleep!  
     In this vivid yet hazy atmosphere, I heard a voice speak to me. It sounded to be that of a young man with a proper Englandish accent.  
     "This is quite the journey," he mused. Upon hearing this I assumed that, while on the cusp of consciousness and sleep, I must be mentally conversing with one of the Looking-Glass passengers.  
     "It certainly is," I said good-naturedly.  
     "That is my chambre you happen to be staying in. It is my house, as well. How do you find it? I share it with a few others," the young man mentioned coolly, his voice patient.  
     "I can't say I much care for it," I confessed, then went to a large chair sat in the centre of the room, upholstered in royal blue velvet and clean light wood. "But this study of yours is rather nice."  
     "Thank you kindly. I admit that I didn't much expect you to like this house, but you need to stay in it," said the young man. While still polite, his voice was growing a bit bored-seeming as well.  
     "I don't want to stay here," I said, thinking of living alongside whatever had forcibly carved into the door and the creature who had violently ripped out the door-knob. The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine.  
     "You all-ready have, once," replied the young man, his voice more of a rehearsed, detached drone. "And before you ask, I'm not strange, weird, off, nor crazy," he added when I began to protest. "My reality is just different from yours." With that, I was jolted from my slumbre.

\----

     I awoke in the train carriage. The top of the sky had grown a brilliant orange corona, most likely caused by the moon having been reduced to only a sliver on the horizon. Mallymkun was asleep, so it must have been rather calm in the carriage since we took our seats. I did not know how long we had been on the train. Thackery peered out of the window with ardour.  
     "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said, looking at the landscape alongside him. Thackery frowned.  
     "Truly is, but didn't you say it looked like rain earlier, lad?"  
     "Did I?" I asked, for I remembered no such thing.  
     "Certainlike did. You said, 'This is quite the journey, but I'm afraid it looks like rain.'"  
     "I forgot, I suppose," I said, made uneasy not because of my lack of memory but by the very act of unrememberance. I wasn't certain that I could explain away my forgetsomeness with a train-ride drowse... Wishing to think of it no longer, I hastily searched for a distraction, but found that I needed none. During my reverie, the train had stopped.  
     Thus it was that we came to be trooping through the wood, teetering on the cusp of lost but none of us willing to say it.  
     "It's around here, yeah?" said Mallymkun from my shoulder.  
     "That is certainly where the train left off," Chessur purred vaguely. He turned about in the air like a corkscrew as he drifted along. The trunks of blossoming trees cut the waning sunlight into shapes on the yellowing grass. It was really a very nice wood, fun to traverse because it had no clear path, but the fact that we were most certainlike lost dampened that sense of fun a little bit. Suddenly, I noted something hidden among the trees and squinted at it.  
     "Do you all see that?" I asked.  
     "See what?" said Thackery, looking round anxietish.  
     "That," I elaborated, pointing. It seemed to be a post of some sort. Chessur took advantage of his evapourating abilities to appear next to the hidden object.  
     "Every one... come take a look at this," he insisted, and with Thackery hopping behind, my precious cargo and I joined him. It was a sign indeed: two posts shaped like hands pointed the same way, one reading "To The House of Tweedledee" and the other "To The House of Tweedledum."  
     "They sound friendly," assessed Thackery with a decisive nod. Mallymkum scampered onto my other shoulder to see the sign better.  
     "It's worth investigating, in any case," I said, for it was becoming so dark that it was difficult to see.  
     "It's better than bein' lost in the woods with you lot," Mally added, but we had all become so accustomed to her banter that we knew she didn't mean it sincerely.  
     In agreement, we kept along the path that the sign directed us to. It wasn't long until we heard talking and Thackery, both tired of walking and excited to find its source, ran ahead and was directly struck in the ear by the pellet of a slingshot.  
I hurried ahead to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator and was met with the uncanny sight of two boys, stout as teapots, standing bundled up in improvised armour. One had equipped himself with a wooden sword and the other wielded a hand-made slingshot. They were all over pillows and twine to hold them together, pots on their heads and sheets dragging past their feet like capes. The thick, strong trees that surrounded the clearing seemed to environ them like fascinated spectators. It seemed as though they had been moved to fight some great, imaginary battle; and, as one of them ventured to speak to the quite irate Thackery, I thought it good that they had prepared.  
     "Sorry about my brother, he's not too bright," the boy tried to whisper, but it seemed he possessed a naturally loud voice and wasn't capable of it.  
     "Yeah, and he's not too bright either, breaking the rules of war!" interjected his brother (who was utterly identical to him in every way and must have been his twin).  
     "Nohow, I can have a pause!"  
     "Contrariwise, you never called for a pause!" It seemed as though a scuffle was brewing. Thankfully, Chessur moved to intervene.  
     "You wouldn't happen to have any brandy, would you? Our friend here... he has need of it," he purred, head tilted to a queer angle.  
     "I dunno. Have we got any brandy?"  
     "Think so. I'll go and check to be sure."  
     "Nohow, you're rubbish at finding things," muttered one of the boys, pushing past his brother.  
     "Contrariwise, I'm better than you at it!" the latter protested, waddling awkwardly after his twin, tripping on his cape. Carved into the base of one of the trees was the house of both Tweedledee and Tweedledum (who, for lack of fittingish terminology, I will henceforth call the Tweedles). It was a singularly curved and swaysome dwelling, a crooked tree-house. The door of it seemed to be set into the base of the tree, while the rest of the house rested upon its branches. It was quite the confusion of walls and floors, and I wondered what the Tweedles would think of Thackery's house if they should see it. They came out directly, one of them holding the bottle of brandy like a prize.  
     "Here you are, sir," said the one with the bottle, noting that I was holding Nivens in my arms.  
     "Thank you," I said, taking and uncorking it. "Who is who, by the way?"  
     "I'm Tweedledum, he's Tweedledee," said one of them.  
     "Contrariwise, I'm Tweedledee, he's Tweedledum," said the other with an apologetic smile. Uncertain whether this was some sport among them or my question had truly been answered (and becoming confused just thinking of it), I turned to the simpler task of administering the brandy to Nivens.  
     "Did you take the steam train by any chance?" asked Tweedledee. "How was it?" He had begun to shift his weight from foot to foot with endearing eagerness.  
     "You quite like the train, don't you lad?" surmised Thackery, who seemed as though he wanted to stoop down to Tweedledee's level as one commonly does when speaking to a child, but found that it would render him the shorter one.  
     "Yeah, and he really likes riding the rail-road. He gets very excited about it," said Tweedledum. Tweedledee took offense at that.  
     "Contrariwise, I'm perfectly calm about it."  
     "Nohow, I saw you nearly jump for joy when we had to fetch beeswax in town the other day!"  
     "Don't say that, we've got company!" asserted Tweedledee, bumping his twin with his elbow. "You're making me look bad in front of the company!" The brothers continued to quarrell in this way until Nivens interrupted, having been revived completely by the brandy.  
     "What are you two wearing?" he chided, wringing his paws. He tilted his head in wonder at the boys' attire. "Gracious me, appearing that way in front of company..."  
     "His fault," Tweedledee said, jabbing a mitten-wrapped finger at Tweedledum.  
     "No it ain't, you started it!" countered Tweedledum, whereupon he shoved Tweedledee and he shoved back.  
     "Boys, behave," said Nivens, nervouslike. The Tweedles hung their heads.  
     "Sorry, McTwisp," they said in unison.  
     "It's quite all right," said Nivens, softening. I don't suppose he was able to remain cross at any one for very long. He pulled out his pocket-watch and studied it. "Oh dear... It's nearly sundown. You don't think that terrific bird will come again, do you?" he asked, abruptish cowering with folded ears. He glanced frightenly at the sky.  
     "I'm afraid you're correct, Nivens," drawled Chessur, swirling into form next to Nivens, which only made him jump roughly two-and-a-half metres into the air. "The bird arrives at the end of every day, right, boys?"  
     "Uh-huh, that's right. Otherwise how would the moon go down and the sky get dark?"  
said Tweedledum with a flopsome shrug.  
     "Too stubborn," explained Tweedledee.  
     "So the Jub-Jub Bird pulls 'em down with her great wings thusly."  
     "Yeah, mm-hm, well said."  
     "Thank you," said Tweedledee, proud of his concise explanation.  
     "Very welcome," said Tweedledum amiably. Unfortunately, Tweedledee's explanation did nothing to comfort poor Nivens, whose teeth positively rattled with his tremours.  
     "Anyway, once it comes there'll be nothin' we can do for you," said Mally with a shrug of her shoulders. "You'll be alone in the forest with that great bird."  
     "Mally," I chided, purely out of obligation.  
     "At night!" she added, with a little swing of her arm.  
     "Mallymkun if you would please refrain from speaking of such things thank you," Nivens said all in one breath, recoiling with his slight arms pressed tight to his chest. At that, Mally turned conciliatory.  
     "It was only a joke," she mumbled, kicking at the drying grass. "I didn't mean anythin' by it..."  
     "Oh, it's fine," said Nivens, and my kind-hearted theory about him was proven correct. At this point I noticed that the boys were all hustle and bustle, muttering and elbowing one another.  
     "Come on, we can let them in, can't we?"  
     "Nohow, I ain't tidied it yet!"  
     "Contrariwise, it's rude if we-- You said you'd tidy up yester-day!"  
     "It's no matter to us if it's tidied or not, correct?" Chessur purred, cutting his eyes at my friends and I.  
     "No matter to me, no sir," said Thackery with a vigourous shake of his head.  
     "I don't mind it," Mallymkun said from my shoulder.  
     "It's no trouble at all," I said. The Tweedles' feud seemed to be settled, and I imagined that this happened many times per day.  
     Thus we were ushered up into the tree-house. It was of remarkable craftsmanship, a mark of the Looking-Glass Lands (which was concerned with woodwork). In stead of a stair, one was immediately met with a ladder that ascended into the upper depths of the home. We climbed the ladder one after the other. I really did like the ladder and wondered could I convince Thackery to install one. I was certain it wouldn't be difficult.  
     The first room was evidentlike a kitchen, filled with blue-and-yellow ceramic teaware crowded together on wooden shelves. A few copper pots sat upon the counter-tops, worn from use. From this height, the crooked windows allowed for a splendid view of the clearing. Over all, the room was pleasantly quaint and homesome. There was a burnished, dented table at which we all took our seats while Thackery brewed tea, as he thought it impolite not to (though he struggled to find the tea even as he spoke).  
     "Now, we both've got an idea of what you're plannin to do," said Tweedledee, laying his hands on the table-top, "McTwisp having seen fit to inform me on all of it." He said this with a proud air, an announcing tinge in his tone.  
     "Contrariwise, he informed the both of us!" complained Tweedledum.  
     "Nohow, he only spoke to me, as I'm the clever one."  
     "Boys," interrupted Nivens before they could build up a proper quarrell.  
     "Right," the Tweedles said in unison once they had realised their mistake. They squared their roundish shoulders, putting on serious expressions. They really did seem sincere.  
     "So, we'd be glad to send your message throughout the whole Looking-Glass Lands."  
     "Uh-huh, it wouldn't take a minute what with the trains and all."  
     "And speaking in people's minds," added Tweedledum, tapping the side of his head.  
     "That too, exactlike."  
     "And you wouldn't charge us anythin in return? You'd do it for free?" Mallymkun inquired suspiciously, ever the frugal one. The Tweedles nodded a few times to each other, then to us.  
     "Consider it done," they said, their determination evident in the set of their jaws and the earnestness of their eyes. It sounded not unlike a promise.  
     We discussed the details more over tea. As I stirred sugar into my cup as I would at the windmill, I thought it was all very lovely to sit in the orange light of the Tweedles' swaysome tree-house and speak of our hypothetical bravery and theoretical rebellion. It was growing as black as pitch outside, the moon dragged down; and glancing at the window, I could have sworn to catch the edge of a wing.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering, "nunz" means "don't go / not now" and "klotchyn" means "listen up / pay attention."


End file.
